


Sooner Or Later

by rudennotgingr



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, PWP, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 04:21:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4125336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudennotgingr/pseuds/rudennotgingr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are words that you can never take back. Words that hurt and destroy, causing damage beyond repair. Words like "I wish I had never met you" and "I never want to see you again". Then there are words that bring life and joy, binding two people together. Words like "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me" and "I love you". These words can change a relationship forever. And if you're not careful, you might just let them slip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sooner Or Later

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gallifreyslostson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallifreyslostson/gifts).



> This is a belated birthday fic for the completely fantastic gallifreyslostson. Hope this also makes today a little better.

They had decided to let the TARDIS float in orbit above the Earth for a day or two before whisking off into any adventures. Well, the Doctor had decided and Rose had reluctantly agreed. She couldn't argue with his logic though. If Mickey couldn't handle floating in outer space for a day then there was no way he would be able to handle what the Doctor and Rose normally got up to in their travels.

Needless to say, the Doctor had his doubts. But it had been his idea that Mickey come along in the first place. It had been a knee jerk reaction, his brain screaming a need for distance and distraction after he had very nearly let slip his true feelings for Rose in an empty parking lot.

 _Idiot_.

He'd let her get too close, much closer than was necessary or appropriate for a traveling companion. He ran a hand down his face and sighed deeply. She'd stopped being just a traveling companion a long time ago.

That has become even more evident in this new body. This new body born of her sacrifice and compassion. He was much more tactile in general this time around, but with Rose...it was an absurd need that could easily spiral out of control. Control he was rapidly loosing.

But he'd cocked it all up when Sarah Jane appeared, finding himself caught between a very dear old friend and a new friend that he unwisely wanted more than just friendship from. Everything had worked out fine in the end, between Rose and Sarah Jane at any rate.

He was quite frankly terrified that Rose now knew just what she meant to him. The last thing he wanted was to scare her away because she didn't return his affections. Actually, that would be better than if she did feel the same, which was a very, very, infinitesimally small probability. Even if by some miracle she did, he would never be able to act on his feelings. He was old and tainted. She was young and innocent...and brilliant and beautiful and-- _oh, for fucks sake_. He shouldn't even be thinking about it in the first place.

He glared balefully at the empty mug in his hands. He had come to the kitchen for a cuppa, hoping the tea would calm his thoughts. Tinkering under the console, adding a new setting to his sonic, and sorting his ties all evening while Rose had been doing who knew what with Mickey had not taken his mind off of the earlier incident. He'd been standing here for 4.23 minutes now and hadn't so much as started heating the water.

"Boo," a voice whispered right behind him, something making a quick jab into his ribs.

He yelped, jumping and spinning around, the mug slipping from his hands. He had been so engrossed in thought that he hadn't heard Rose's approach. The mug clattered to the floor, causing her to stop giggling at his surprised reaction.

"Sorry," she said, biting her lower lip.

"Rose," he squeaked, then hastily cleared his throat. "What, er, what are you doing in here?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"I just...thought you were with Mickey." He shrugged, hoping he sounded more disinterested than he felt.

"I was," she replied, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes. "And now I'm in here."

"Aren't you usually in bed by now?" _Brilliant, Doctor. Overcompensating and being more of an arse is exactly how to handle this._

Her smile dropped as she straightened up. "If you don't want to tell me what you were up to then--"

"I was just about to make tea,” he blurted. Rose’s posture relaxed, but was giving him a strange look. He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, attempting to regain a sense of balance. “Until you so rudely attacked me."

"Please," she snorted. "Surprised you didn't hear me actually. Never been able to do that before."

"I was thinking."

"About what?"

He swallowed and shifted on his feet, glancing down at the floor. His mug had shattered into several pieces. "Oh no. Not my lucky mug. It’s the exact same shade of blue as the TARDIS. Do you have any idea how _long_ it took me to find it?" He crouched down and gingerly brushed his fingers over the jagged pieces, resting his other arm on his knee. "I loved that mug.”.

"So you can say it to a mug," Rose grumbled under her breath, crossing her arms.

He snapped his head up to look at her. "I’m sorry, what did you say?"

"Nothing." She waved a hand, trying to brush him off.

He was 99.99% sure he had heard her correctly. Which meant she did know what he had been about to blurt out that night. She knew and if he was reading her correctly, which he was, then it was something she did in fact want him to say.

He should have bit his tongue. He should have reminded himself as to why flirting with the idea of having an actual, physical and emotional relationship with Rose past the lines of friendship was a very _bad_ idea.

Or maybe, just maybe, he should have just said it right there, tradition and self loathing be damned.

Instead he cocked his head and ran his tongue along his row of top teeth, his hearts quickening when her eyes followed the small but not so subtle movement. He placed an elbow on one knee and a hand on the other, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

"Rose Tyler, are you jealous of a mug?"

Her face flushed and she wrapped her arms more tightly around herself.

The Doctor slowly stood back up. He didn't want her to think he was merely poking fun or toying with her emotions. He could be cold at times, but never cruel...not to her. He leaned forward, his body tingling, all too aware he was playing a dangerous game.

"Not that I could blame you. It does get to come in contact with these...lips at least once a day." He smirked as her breath caught and her pupils dilated.

What he hadn't anticipated however, was the way her mouth slowly curled in response, an innocent pretense on her face.

"Depends," she said with a shrug. Locking eyes with his, she stepped forward. The broken pieces created a tiny buffer between them, but she mimicked his posture, leaning forward and entering his personal space. "Are you jealous of Mickey?"

Everything came crashing down, the situation becoming far too real, too domestic. He choked and stepped around her, needing distance before he did something truly stupid that he couldn't take back.

"Absolutely not,” he deflected as Rose turned, keeping him in her sight. “Only a simple minded primate would be jealous of that idiot."

"Should have known.” She shook her head.

Red flashing lights and loud jangling alarm bells went off in the Doctor’s head. He had anticipated backlash, but of the in your face sort--yelling, a return insult, aggressive body language (hopefully not a slap). She appeared calm and collected, her voice soft but her words somehow more hurtful. 

“You know,” she began, her eyes burning into him. “For all your heroics, you really are--"

"Yes," he interrupted, knowing all too well where she was headed with that train of thought. He called himself a coward on an hourly basis. The thought of it coming from Rose's perfectly pink lips was a pain he couldn't bear.

"I--excuse me?"

"Don't make me repeat it," he begged through gritted teeth. The Doctor looked down at the tips of his trainers. When he brought his eyes back up to Rose's face, he dropped all his walls for a fleeting moment, hoping she would notice and that she would be able to understand that what he was about to ask of her had everything to do with his being an idiot (and quite possibly a true coward) and nothing to do with his ego. "And please, don't--don't finish that sentence."

"You're secret's safe with me," she whispered, heartfelt and without hesitation, before closing the distance between them. Biting her bottom lip, she waivered, her eyes darting between his. He held his breath, hands in his pockets and waited for whatever she was about to do. She placed a hand on his shoulder for leverage as she rose on tip toe. His head inclined forward without conscious thought, eyes straining to keep her in view. Her lips met the corner of his mouth for the briefest instant, sending a ripple of shock and burning warmth all the way to his toes.

"Goodnight, Doctor," she whispered shyly, ducking her head as she walked around him and out the door.

He blinked several times, staring blankly at the row of cabinets on the wall. His fingers probed the spot her lips had touched, his mouth falling slightly open. He stood, dumbstruck, replaying the whole thing over and over in his mind.

This was decidedly not helping him keep her at arm's length. Shaking himself mentally and physically, he moved to pick up the pieces of his shattered mug.

He could always buy another one.

After he had cleaned up the mess, and spent an absurd amount of time drinking one lousy cup of tea, the Doctor headed to the media room. There had to be something mind numbing enough to erase the day from his thoughts. Between the almost confession and the almost kiss, he was losing his grip on reality.

He flopped down on the large bean bag the TARDIS provided for him. Not one of those from Earth that felt like it was stuffed with odd shapes of styrofoam, all lumpy and uncomfortable. This was from Mirdova 4, made from the softest material in the universe. It was what he imagined sitting on a cloud would feel like, without falling through of course.

He reclined back, feet planted on the floor, and let out a deep breath as the material molded to his body. The TARDIS began playing _Hangar 1: The UFO Files_. The Doctor focused on the screen, letting himself get lost in the world of badly crafted conspiracy theories and laughable speculation about aliens on Earth in the 21st century.

.....

Hours later, the Doctor turned his head toward the door as footsteps approached. Just like he knew it would be, Rose appeared in the doorway. Her hair was slightly tangled and mussed from sleep, her eyelids still drooping. His pulse quickened as he took in her outfit. She was wearing a plain purple t shirt that didn't even reach mid thigh. And that was it, near as he could tell. His eyes strained to see any hint of sleep shorts or knickers beneath the cotton fabric.

She shuffled towards him, the lazy sway of her hips only making matters worse. He drank in her toned legs, smooth expanse of skin that his fingers itched to touch.

He swallowed roughly. He was in trouble if she wanted to sit with him. Maybe he'd get lucky and she'd go away.

Or maybe he'd get _lucky_.

No. Stop it.

Rose stopped in front of him, yawning and stretching her arms over her head. He hastily averted his eyes as her shirt crept up her legs.

"May I help you?" He drummed his fingers nervously on the dark fabric of his seat and forced the muscles in his back and shoulders to relax. She probably just lost the kitchen again. It's fine, everything was perfectly _fine_.

"Yeah." She nudged one of his trainers with her bare foot. "You can budge over so I can sit next to you."

He scratched the back of his neck, feeling helpless. "Wouldn't you rather sit, I don't know...someplace else?"

"There is _no_ place else."

He looked around. There had been other seats when he came in. Hadn't there? He was sure there had been. Where had they gone?

The TARDIS' smug laughter bounced through his mind and he had to fight back an audible groan.

"Why are you being so weird?"

"What? Me? I'm not being weird. I'm as unweird as they come. Perfectly normal, that's me."

"Right."

He wanted to leave, offer her the spot and he could go elsewhere. But he couldn't concoct a reason that she wouldn't be able to see through in an instant. He'd have to bite the bullet and force himself to relax.

"So, er...would you like to sit?" He slid over a few centimeters, more for show than to actually make room. The bean bag was only so big.

She smiled and climbed next to him, moaning as she leaned back and closed her eyes. He banished the flurry inappropriate thoughts to a dark corner of his mind.

"Comfy?" he asked, arching a brow.

She lifted his arm from where it was wedged between them, placing it around her shoulders and leaned against him.

"Yup."

He chuckled and began to relax. It wasn’t the first time they’d sat like this together and he hoped it wouldn’t be the last.

“What’re you watching?”

“Oh...um, I don’t really know actually.” The Doctor turned his attention to the screen, something different was playing. “Wasn’t quite paying attention.”

“So you won’t mind if I change it?”

He tilted his head to look down at her. “I know you haven’t gotten nearly enough sleep, shouldn’t you be catching some more of those z’s you love so much?”

Her eyes narrowed and he mentally cursed himself, there was that bloody word again.

“I do _love_ my sleep, but…” she looked away, tucking her head down against his shoulder. “I might love this more.”

His hearts tangled and tripped in his chest, resuming with a stutter. He didn’t have to be a genius to catch that she wasn’t just speaking literally. He felt lighter than air, even though he should be running as far away from her as possible. He was walking a very fine line, wanting to dive over it head first the more time they spent together. There was no harm in enjoying a good cuddle with a best mate, right? Friends did that all the time...in their nearly nonexistent jim jams...

Ok, maybe not.

“You can watch whatever you like,” he whispered, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “So what’ll it be? Muppets? Eastenders? I think you should be alright to watch the next one and stay caught up with your mum. Or--”

“Shhh,” she said, putting a hand firmly on his chest. He fought to keep his breathing steady. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

He bit back the question dying to leap off the tip of his tongue, focusing on her hand on his chest and her head on his shoulder. The screen flickered as the show he had been watching blinked out and a new film began playing. Rose had successfully mentally communicated with the TARDIS, _without_ his help.

“Look at you! Well done!” He wrapped his other arm around her, giving her a celebratory hug and inadvertantly pulling her even closer, their bodies forming one unifies dip in the bean bag. She mumbled a thank you as he partially released her, keeping his left arm firmly around her shoulders.

She kept her hand on his chest, resting between his wildly beating hearts.

 _The Lion King_ began to play, and the Doctor gave in to the way the warmth from her body made him relax. It didn’t take long for Rose to fall back into a peaceful slumber. He allowed himself the indulgence of brushing his hand through her hair. He lightly kissed the top of her head, a contented smile blooming on his face as she snuggled closer, then he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He didn’t really need the sleep, not yet. But he always got a better quality of rest when she was near, as if her very presence kept his inner demons away. Might as well take the opportunity while he could.

He’d only be asleep for two hours at most anyway.

 _Maybe_ three. Tops.

…..

When the Doctor awoke, the first thing his brain registered was that he had been asleep for more than two hours. How had he managed to sleep for six hours? _Six_?

The second thing his brain brought to his attention was of course the answer to his question. Rose Tyler was lying practically on top of him. One of her legs was wedged between his two and her chest was pressed firmly against his, her head tilted upward so that her breath puffed against his neck. He hadn’t exactly been innocent through the night. His arms were both wrapped around her, returning her embrace, with one hand curling around her hip.

_Fuck._

How was he supposed to get out of this one without making it awkward...for either of them. Rose was usually a fairly deep sleeper, in the right circumstances, but knowing his luck she would wake up the instant he moved. Maybe he should just wait and pretend to be asleep when she finally woke up. Right. Like she would believe that one.

She stirred, stretching her body like a cat. He bit back a groan as her breasts rubbed against him. Thank goodness his ridiculous layers muted the sensation. She lifted her head and smiled slowly at him.

“Hello,” she whispered.

He couldn’t help but smile back, letting himself believe that it would be possible to wake up like this every day.

“Hello,” he echoed back.

Rose took a inhaled deeply. He let himself believe she was breathing him in. Her smile faltered and her eyebrows rose dangerously near her hairline. The proverbial shoe had finally dropped.

“Sorry.” She mumbled, her cheeks flushing.

The Doctor stared at her blankly. He hadn’t been prepared for her to wake up so soon. He wasn’t mad, at all. Quite the contrary, which was also a problem. But the last thing he wanted was for her to feel bad about the whole situation. What the bloody hell was he supposed to do now?

“I...I’m gonna go...shower.” 

She pushed herself up, temporarily straddling his leg, and his arms slipped from around her. He grabbed her arm and she looked at him nervously. He could see all her doubts, all her insecurities swirling in her eyes. His desire to assure her that it was fine, that _they_ were fine, shifted into something else.

He moved forward, pressing his lips to hers for a fraction of a second before he could talk himself out of it, then hastily pulled back. Rose stared at him with wide eyes, not moving. He was fairly certain she wasn’t even breathing.

He repeated the action, lingering a hair longer before breaking away once more. His hearts were racing, he gripped the bean bag with his free hand to keep it from shaking. He was nervous and panicking, probably would have made a hasty retreat if she wasn’t essentially pinning him in place. Maybe he had been reading her wrong--she hadn’t reciprocated.

She hadn’t run away yet either.

This time when the Doctor kissed her, he took her bottom lip between his two and sucked lightly. A shiver rippled down her body and her breath caught in her throat. He moved his mouth slowly and gently over hers, only getting a teasing taste but too afraid to push for more or move any other part of his body.

He broke the kiss, barely moving away, and nuzzled her nose with his own. "Do you want me to stop?" he whispered, his voice low and rough.

Rose's warm breath ghosted against his lips twice before she finally answered, his hearts were in her hands whether she knew it or not.

"No."

The Doctor smiled and immediately reclaimed her lips. This time she melted against him, aligning their bodies and guiding him back against the bean bag. The giddy feeling that had bubbled within at hearing her answer zinged along his nerves, making him feel like he was flying. Or dreaming. Or both

She planted her knees on both sides of his hips. He placed a hand at the small of her back, pulling her closer, while the other slid up her arm to the back of her neck, tangling in her hair. She kissed him back, following his lead with her hands gripping his shoulders.

He was overwhelmed with sensation. The soft curves of her body pressed tight against him. The sweet aroma of _Rose_ when he remembered to breath through his nose (which wasn’t very often). The small needy sounds she made in the back of her throat when he sucked on her bottom lip (or was that him when she nipped at his?). The intoxicating taste of her lips that was making him lightheaded and chasing all rational thought from his mind.

Their mouths had glided almost lazily against each other, what the Doctor thought would be considered a very chaste kiss in any part of the universe. Even though she was driving him to distraction, it wasn’t enough.

He swept his tongue along her lip, hoping she would understand the silent question he was asking. Rose responded immediately in kind and he threw himself headlong down the slippery slope he had been fighting against from the day he met her. The kiss took on a life of its own, fire and passion igniting in his veins. He was burning from the inside, almost like regenerating only the pain had been replaced with pleasure but the same thought flashed through his mind. Would he survive? Rose was still letting him set the pace, which was understandable given his penchant to turn tail and run. She was, however, giving as good as she got. One of her hands worked his tie free, loosening his collar, while the other plunged into his hair, her nails scraping lightly at his scalp and making his fingers curl reflexively, twisting the fabric of her night shirt.

She rocked against him, the erection he had been ignoring up to now becoming an almost painful reminder of just how much he wanted this, wanted _her_.

The Doctor began kissing and nipping his way down her neck, giving Rose a chance to catch her breath. His hand on her hip bunched up her shirt small finger fulls at a time until he was able to slip seamlessly beneath, touching soft, warm skin.

She sighed and ground against him, the sound turning into a moan as he bucked helplessly beneath her. He had always thought that _if_ they were to ever cross into being lovers as well as friends that he would be able to take his time with her, spend hours learning every curve of her body and every spot that made her scream his name.

He should have known better. Every cell in his body was clamoring for him to get his shit together and just _fuck her already_.

Exploring with his fingers, he discovered that his frisky companion wasn't wearing any knickers. Sucking on her pulse point, he dipped his thumb down over her clit and found a second welcoming surprise. She was already wet. A second wave of arousal crashed over him, drowning out all other thoughts but one. Finding out what Rose sounded like as she came apart at his doing. He moved his thumb in lazy circles over her sensitive bundle of nerves, his own pleasure spiking with the way she held his head in place at her neck and the way she shook when he applied just a touch more pressure with his thumb.

She tugged on his hair, tipping his head back. "Want you," she breathed. " _Now_."

He didn't need to be told twice. Growling, he captured her lips and toed off his trainers in record time. Between the two of them, they were able to undo his trousers and shove them, along with his pants, down to his knees before they decided that would have to work.

Holding her shirt up and out of the way, the Doctor held his breath while Rose rested her forehead against his, holding his shoulders for support and slowly sinking down on his hardened length.

"Fuck, Rose," he gasped. His vision blurred, the feel of her inner walls hot and tight around him nearly more than he could take. She clenched around him and he almost came right there. " _Wait_."

"Sorry," she mumbled, biting her lip.

The Doctor merely nodded, allowing himself a moment to recover and process that this was really happening, and far surpassing any fantasy he'd ever had. Finally, he used his hands to guide her hips in a slow arc.

Rose took control, swiveling and moving up and down and doing he wasn’t quite sure what--all he knew was that it felt _so_ good. He never wanted it to end. As she picked up speed he used his hands simply to assist, maximizing the building pleasure for them both.

He moved his hand to cup the back of her neck, pulling her to him for a sloppy kiss. Destroying the last of his walls, willingly leaving himself emotionally vulnerable as she sought completion he broke the kiss and whispered against her lips, "I love you."

He wasn't sure what had possessed him to do so--maybe it was the unparalleled euphoria building in his blood, maybe it was the solace he found in her embrace, or maybe it was the undeniable acceptance and love burning through the lust in her eyes--but it proved to be her undoing. As the words finished tumbling from his lips, her body spasmed, the cry of his name echoing in the otherwise empty room. Rose's hands twisted and pulled in his jacket (he'd have wrinkles later, love wrinkles) and the movement of her hips became erratic as she drew out her orgasm as long as possible.

He thrust up once, feeling her fluttering walls along his length before his own climax rushed through him. White light burst behind his eyelids and he buried his face in her neck, groaning her name.

They rocked against each other as hypersensitivity became tingling numbness. His legs felt like they were made of jello and he couldn’t be bothered to care if he ever walked again.

"Did you mean that?" Rose asked breathlessly against his ear.

He pulled back to look at her and arched an eyebrow. "I just shagged you didn't I?"

"That doesn't mean anything. People have sex with each other all the time, doesn't necessarily mean--"

"I can assure you, Rose Tyler, that to me...this meant _everything_."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

"You're not going to make this weird and change your mind later are you?"

"I still don't think I'm good for you. And I _know_ I don't deserve you. But no. No running. No regrets."

"Good. But...you're wrong."

The Doctor opened his mouth to argue, every reason he had ever thought of as to why they shouldn't be together fighting to be the first to launch from the tip of his tongue.

"I shagged you." She gave him a tongue touched smile, smoothing her hands over his shoulders.

His jaw clicked shut. "I'm sorry. Excuse me?"

"I. Shagged. _You_."

"I'm fairly certain I was an active participant, therefore it would be more accurate to say we shagged each other."

"Nope," she said, popping the ‘p’ and shaking her head. "Perks of being on top." With a gleam in her eyes, she rocked her hips to remind him of their current position.

His cock, which had been softening inside her, sprung back to life. Rose's eyes widened in surprise and he smirked in response.

"Well, we can't have that. No fair for only one of us to claim bragging rights." The Doctor wrapped an arm securely around her waist, holding her tight against him, and used the other to help himself rise to his feet. He managed to step out of the pool of fabric around his ankles without falling over, only nearly dropping Rose once. She squealed and scrambled to wrap her legs around him, her arms wound tightly around his neck.

He gave her arse a firm but gentle smack before adjusting his grip to better support her weight as he carried her across the media room.

“Oi!”

A smug grin tugged at his lips. Mmm, lips...Rose lips. He kissed her again, kicking open the door that had appeared in the wall just ahead. He sent the TARDIS a quick thanks for moving his room closer. Much closer.

He carried Rose to his bed, knowing the time ship would take care of the door for them. She didn’t want Mickey walking in on them any more than he did. Minimal words were exchanged as clothes were divested, tossed to quickly forgotten corners of the room, and more important activities were resumed.

He lasted five and a half minutes less than he had wanted to, Rose’s gasping confession of returning love hot in his ear as he thrust into her catching him completely off guard and sending him tumbling over the edge into blissful oblivion. Thankfully she followed close behind him. As they snuggled together, sleepy and sated (for the time being at least), the Doctor decided there would be plenty of time in the upcoming future to prove just how superior his biology really was.


End file.
